Closet Space
by Mrs. Alex Kurosaki
Summary: You knew being roommates with your friend Adam might be a little awkward at first, but you never foresaw the drama you would get yourself into because of it. Will this be the end of your friendship, or could it turn into something more?
1. Chapter 1

"God damnit, (Y.N.)! You gotta stop moving my shit! I can't find my stuff half the time, and it's fucking annoying!"

"Well maybe if you put it in it's freakin' place, we wouldn't have this problem, Adam! For instance, my room? My space! You can't just throw the door open like that! What if I'd been changing or something?"

"It's my place!"

"I pay half the rent! It's half mine too!"

Another night, another fight.

You knew you were taking a chance by moving in with your friend Adam, but you never realized it would be this bad. At first, it had all been good. It had all been running smoothly. You came home from work, cooked, and then watched TV in the living room while eating dinner with Adam every couple of nights. You had just convinced him to watch Stranger Things, and now he was hooked. The next shows were Voltron and iZombie. All had a good amount to binge, and it made evenings with Adam very entertaining. He laughed at how excited you would get, and how easily you would freak out. You would laugh right back at him when a scene later, he would yell just as loudly at the TV too. It was fun. It worked. You were good.

But then you had to cancel on him a couple of nights in a row. You had some meetings you needed to attend. You were always tired. And you started falling asleep while watching almost every time.

You had a sneaking suspicion at first that he didn't like how you kept falling asleep on him, and that that's why he was acting all snippy. But he started becoming more distant, especially when you made a point to sit on a different couch to stop making him uncomfortable. In your defense, you thought it would make things better! He didn't like you touching him after all, right?

So why did he start throwing such a hissy fit over tiny little things throughout the day otherwise?

Adam was a great friend. He always listened to you rant, and theorize, and tell him how to do stuff he probably already knew how to do, but you just needed to give him a better way. He'd always quirk a brow, and look at you skeptically as he nodded slowly and replied with a muffled, "a~huh." You meant well, but maybe after a living together, it was a bit much. Regardless, you tried to change to keep the balance.

Your friend Brandon always texted you saying maybe you needed to find another place because it wasn't fair to you to try to change who you are. But you didn't want to do that. He started invited himself over "for backup" supposedly, but it would be very awkward when you were busy cooking, gossiping about whatever new stuff happened in the office that day with Brandon drinking a glass of wine behind you, and Adam would get home and just stare.

The first time, you greeted him saying, "Hey Adam! I made some stir fry if you want some. Ready for Voltron tonight?"

He just glared at Brandon and you as he walked towards his room and huffed that he had finished it last week since you kept falling asleep and weren't paying attention anyways. That stung, badly. You didn't even respond because all you could think was 'without me?'

You tightened your jaw in annoyance and responded, "Oh... Well, if you're not going to eat, I'm making Brandon take the leftovers home."

"Do whatever you want."

Adam had slammed the door to his room then, and then Brandon leaned in close and harshly whispered to you, "that's your roommate? Girl! Ignore everything I said and bug him until he gives you a good angry shag."

"What the? Oh my god, dude! Don't say crazy stuff like that. He's my roommate, not my boyfriend."

"Does he have to be for you to hook up? Or is he on the same team as me? Oh my god, do I have a chance?"

Brandon could be annoying at times, but he was always a riot. And you really needed a friend again since Adam kept being so mean to you. Alas, considering his new found interest, he kept inviting himself over and consistently bugging Adam. Asking if he'd like to sit and eat with the both of you, continually offering wine (which he'd bring plenty of every night), and suggesting shows to watch that were less than group friendly.

"Do you mean Buffy, the vampire slayer?"

"No, Muffy. She's a lesbian vampire slayer and the vamps she's after are all lesbians. Adam, don't you think that would be a great show to watch?"

"Brandon! I fucking swear, we are not watching porn!"

After he went so far as to suggest videos like that, you put your foot down and told him he wasn't allowed to come back to your place anymore until he went and fucked someone else to get Adam off his system.

"But (Y.N.)~," he whined. "I can't get him out of my system just by hooking up with someone else! I need hiiiiim."

"Well, I'm pretty sure he doesn't like penis so figure it out," you demanded as you pushed him out the door of your apartment.

He continued resisting your forcefulness as he went out, but then he heard a sound at the end of the hall and immediately righted himself and dust himself off as you fell onto his back. He turned, pushing the wine into your hands and leaning in to whisper into your ear, "Fine. I'll figure it out. But I'm begging you, do him for me."

He left you a confused, blushing mess at your doorway but quickly your embarrassment turned to irritation as Adam pushed his way past you saying, "What, did your boyfriend breakup with you finally?"

You walked into the apartment yourself, closing the door behind you and exclaiming, "No. My friend is just a stupid limp noodle with no filter."

Adam had stopped having dinner with you after Brandon kept showing up, though he always kept his door open. A great joy for Brandon since Adam would always walk around his room shirtless, and come out to moodily grab milk or his jug of water.

Brandon always drooled like crazy for him, and would slap your shoulder so hard, you had a couple of bruises develop from his over-excitement.

You made a mistake of wearing a summer dress with spaghetti straps one day, and Adam got so mad. He yelled at you because "why would you let someone hit you? Did you at least fight back? Did you give them bruises like that too?"

You were taken aback to say the least. Not just by his anger, but by the way he grabbed your wrist to make you turn and look at him. You responded that it wasn't on purpose, and that Brandon had just gotten too excited.

"It happens sometimes, and I bruise easily. Look."

At that, you pulled your hand out of his grasp wrist-side up, and slapped your forearm with enough force to sting but not really "hurt."

He yelled at you then again. Again, what was wrong with you? Are you some sort of masochist? Why would you do that? Even he wasn't that ridiculous.

"Are you kidding me, Adam? You're the asshole who breaks shit every time you can't handle how mad you get. How many walls have we had to plaster over because you get so pissed? And how many more holes did you fix before I moved in with you? Don't you go calling me crazy when you're just as psychotic as me!"

That had been the start of nightly fights that only quieted down because he started bring girls home... Though the quiet wasn't really that quiet because each girl must have been a wannabe porn star with how loud they yelled. You started to hate him little by little each night because every morning, you would have no sleep. And every day at work, during those slow parts of the day when sleep was just a blink too long away, some of your coworkers started joking that your roommate sure hadn't been letting you get much sleep recently, huh. With unkempt irritation and no shame you responded, "As if. It's more his stupid hook upsdon't seem to understand that fucking isn't always a porno, and that everyone around doesn't need to know what the fuck they're doing. But I can't use earplugs or else I won't be able to hear my alarm in the morning when it's time for me to wake up. I really hate my life right now."

All your coworkers were put off by you for killing their gossip. Brandon on the other hand was livid because "I told YOU to fuck him for me! Not to listen to other hoes fuck him!"

You were so done with not having any peace and quiet anymore that after two months of hardly any sleep, you got sick and stayed in bed all day. You called in of course to let your employees know, but Adam wasn't aware. So he went about his day as he normally would. You normally left the apartment by 7 every morning. You assumed Adam left around 9 since he would always get back a little after 6:30, but at 7:30 he was already getting ready and kicking out the newest of his conquests. They were being so loud, and he was being so rude, you stepped out to see what the problem was.

Adam had his hair all wet fresh from the shower, and all he had on was a towel with a pair of black boxers and jeans in hand. He was shoving the blond girl out, saying "yes, yes, it was fun. I'll call you later. Get home safely. But you need to get out. I've had enough of you for one night, and I need to clean the mess you made so my roommate doesn't accuse me of being an ass. Now leave!"

Your nose was all red, your eyes super puffy. Your hair was a tangled wild mess, and you wore your favorite polka dot robe. The noise they were making as they bickered towards the door was doing nothing to help your headache, but thank goodness you hadn't had much of a cough because for some reason, the scene before you was very satisfying to watch.

"Adam, please. I haven't even showered. I barely have my clothes on. Give me a minute to get decent before forcing me out the door!"

"You should've woken up early. I told you you couldn't stay the night, and that I had to leave early."

"I thought you meant like 10!"

You watch in a daze, quietly rubbing your nose with tissue so your nose wouldn't drip, but after a minute, you got tired and walked to the fridge for some orange juice. The moment you opened the fridge and bent down, Adam turned in surprise. His boxers and pants covered his loin area as he held on tightly to his towel and loudly asked, "(Y.N.)! What are you doing here?"

You grabbed the juice and DayQuil, and poured a mix of both into one cup.

After chugging the concoction down, you pointed at the two of them and said, "you assholes haven't let me sleep in two months... I wouldn't have gotten so sick if I had been able to sleep, but you fucks fucked me over. I hate being sick! I'm going to bed and sleeping. And for once! I won't have you assholes screaming and being gross the entire time I'm trying to rest! That's what I'm doing!"

After a moment, you started coughing, and quietly whined that your throat hurt while trudging over to your room. You didn't even have enough energy to slam the door properly, but it did the job. The moment you reached the foot of your bed, you let yourself fall forward and get comfortable as you are. What you didn't expect was Adam to come in quietly.

He sighed as he looked you over and helped push you into a more comfortable position. You were annoyed he was in there. You were sure he was there to gloat, but he didn't say anything. So you said it instead.

"Don't worry. I'll stop being an annoying ass once I move out. Then you can fuck whoever you want whenever you want, and you won't have me shitting on you for not being considerate."

He stopped moving the covers over you and stepped away from the bed when he processed what you had said.

"Are you kidding? Where are you even going to go!"

"I don't know. I'll find something."

"The whole reason I offered you to move in was because you couldn't find anywhere you could afford! That's bullshit!"

He was so mad he threw your alarm clock across the room. You were so startled, you screamed and curled up into a ball when he did that. But after you saw the mess he made over your drawers, you hoarsely screamed "what the fuck! Get out out of my room. Get out!"

You began to take after your grandmother's habit of cleaning when angry, and constantly cleaned the entire apartment. He in turn took to constantly criticizing what you had cleaned, and purposely making "his space" messy again.

Which led to your most recent fight where he stormed into your room, yelling about where you leave his stuff. Since he came into your room, you angrily stomped out, slamming the door closed behind you. But now you have a dilemma. You're not going to leave your place because of that prick, but you're not going to just sit angrily in the living room either. You're so mad, you don't think before you end up finding yourself lying down in the bottom of Adam's closet. His long jackets and pants hang close over you in a mess, and all his shoes lay piled at one edge. Luckily for you, he doesn't have too many pairs so you have enough space to lay down in the dark and just... breathe. You were so frustrated the past few months, you haven't been able to even think, much less consider why things are the way they are. You don't get much of a chance to do so now either though because almost as soon as you finally calm your racing heart, Adam comes storming into his own room. He doesn't say anything, but he does yell a lot. And break things... You don't try to see what's being broken, but you can hear wood cracking, and a lot of things being thrown across the room. A couple of things crash against the closet, startling you and making the closet open just a crack.

He's so mad—and it's your fault. You've been doing so much to purposely annoy him and make it clear you're still here. Yes, you're leaving. And for some reason, the thought of leaving him makes you sad still. Before things got all messed up, he was such a good friend. At times, you secretly find yourself wishing you could've been more, but now it seems that's never going to happen. He must hate you with how mad he gets because of you. So, with guilt eating at you, you eventually start crying.

Your head hurts so much, you find yourself crying yourself to sleep. But when you wake up some time later, you no longer hear the sounds of destruction like before. Now, you hear the sound of quiet huffs and mumbled curses.

"Stupid cunt. Always moving my shit and acting all innocent like she didn't do anything wrong. She's the one who started bringing hookups over first. Obviously she's just mad she didn't get to actually hook up with him cuz I was here. That fucker... always getting close to her and whispering dirty things to her. She's too innocent to be listening to shit like that. Piece of shit. And porn! Fucking porn!"

You're awake enough now to follow his thought process somewhat, but it just annoys you. You roll your eyes as you sit up, but then you realize something sounds off. He's mumbling, and clearly thinking of something else because it doesn't make sense he would start taking about Brandon like if he was your boyfriend or something. And he's been the only guy to come over. Why would he think that?

You rub your eyes of any remaining moisture and then take note that it sounds like a weird rubbing noise outside. Almost like... You can't bring yourself to even think of what you suspect it might be in the back of your head. Instead, you scoot over and look out of the bit where the door popped open. You barely hold in your gasp as you scoot backwards, but the image you just saw is burned into your eyes...

Adam, just barely building up a sweat, his hand moving fast up and down, much higher than you would've expected in all honestly, and him glaring at the door as more angry rants pour from his mouth.

"How fucking stupid can she be? I know she doesn't get shit, or realize how much I want her with me, but she can't be that stupid. She has to know what she does when she goes around like she does. She's not that stupid!"

You carefully crawl forward again, not believing your ears, and now your eyes. He looks away then, and starts pumping faster and angrier.

"She shouldn't let other people touch her! She shouldn't let anyone. Hell, even me. Why would she be ok with sleeping on me? Did she want me to hold her? To hug her and pull her into my lap how I wanted to do? That's why I'm in this dam mess! She's too damn cute... it's not my fault I started liking her! Ugh, but this stupid asshole wouldn't ever like me. If she did, she'd realize how I feel and how crazy she makes me!"

He starts to slow down then, his eyes opening but just staring up at the ceiling. His hand moves slowly, and he moves himself a little lower down on his pillows, getting more comfortable.

"If she fucking liked me, she'd say it already. She'd kiss me, and hug me, and take me to the sofa instead of that stupid Brad or whatever his name was. Then she'd straddle me... She'd get up on top of me, and let me taste her lips. She'd put her tongue in my mouth, and let me feel how soft and hot her lips are. She'd hold on to my shoulders as she grinds against me. God, I wanna feel how she moves. I wanna know how she likes to make love, and what makes her wet."

You pull away from the opening in the closet, going down and staring back up at the clothes hanging above you. You're in shock. He likes you? But how? He's been hooking up with other people and even spending the night on different occasions at other people's place instead of coming back here. There's no way he likes you! And absolutely no way you could like him. He's always so angry! You can't be with someone that angry. But... you did really love how he smiled, and how he lost himself in his emotions. If he just didn't lose himself in his anger so often, it would be better. But when he liked a show for instance, he'd get into it. He'd think about it, and come up with all kinds of stories about them. And he'd come up with scenes and scenarios of what they'd say and how they'd act. He'd acted out a lot of scenes for you before too.

Now that you think about it, maybe that's why you fell for him. You hate to admit it, but you get angry with the girls he hooks up with because you felt like there was something that could happen between you two. And him being with them meant that, no, there wasn't anything. But maybe there is. He's clearly imaging what could happen between you two, and now he's talking about how he'd want to put his fingers inside you.. You find yourself start to squeeze your legs uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very hot and with a strong need for something to fill you. You scoot further away from the door, towards the wall, and squeeze your hands over your chest to keep them away from your thighs. Your toes start to curl as you squirm around, but you try to remain calm. You breath deeply, and try to ignore him. You stare up at the abyss, trying to think of anything else, but his voice is so commanding. You can't help but listen, and imagine what he's saying.

You can almost feel his long fingers pumping inside you as he holds your thigh down with the other hand. You can feel his hot breath over that thigh, and now his wet kisses. And his breath over your core before he pulls his fingers out and pulls your hips off the couch and towards his mouth. He wants to know what you taste like, but you now want to know what his mouth feels like. All over you. His voice sputters as he gets close, and when he finishes, he stops talking but your mind continues the image he put in your mind. You hate yourself when you try to crawl forward to check on him, but are very thankful to see that once he finished, he passed out. You can now pay more attention to the room and see that he threw all his clothes in the corner so he's completely naked. It'd be so easy to go over and climb on top of him. Make his fantasy come true.. How bad could that be? But you'd never be able to face him if you did.

Now that you think about it, how are you going to face him? You just heard his deepest desire, and can't leave. For one, he might wake up. For another, if he does, he's completely naked and you know why. There's no way. You have to wait till he's snoring so you can sneak out. But who knows how long that will take.

You look around, trying to see what you could possibly distract yourself with until you can leave, but you can't ignore the throb between your legs. You're sure you'd be able to feel your blood rushing if you even just put your hand over your cunt, but you can't! He'll hear you! You resist the urge as much as you can, but eventually you turn over on all fours and thrust your hips backwards to at least get the sensation of fucking out of your system. It's not enough, you need something to fill you. You lean down onto your arms and bite your clenched fist so hard, you break through the skin and start to bleed a little. Short little huffs leave you from the pain, but it seems it can't compare to the throbbing need deep in your core. You crawl forward once more to check, and Adam is finally breathing deeply. This would be the perfect opportunity to leave, but you physically can't. You keep seeing yourself getting on top of Adam the moment you step out. You keep imaging wrapping your mouth around his dick, or even just getting on top of him and rubbing your bare pussy over him until he's hard enough to—no!

For your sanity, you decide to just handle your needs before leaving and scoot all the way down to the bottom of the closet and spread your legs. Your finger starts to circle your clit, but you're already so soaked. Rather than waste time warming up, you go straight to work and begin pushing down on the sensitive area right above the entrance to your vagina and work your way down and in. Quickly, you find yourself stuffing a finger in, then two, and even three in a matter of minutes. Normally it takes you at least 20, but there's something about Adam...

Your fingers move fast, in and out, and in the quiet darkness, and all you can imagine is that it's Adam's fingers inside of you. It's Adam's hands moving over your torso, and under your shirt. It's his hands cupping your breast, and then kneading them so roughly, so painfully, so thoroughly and well. Little moans escape you, and you have to take off your cardigan to bite into just to make sure you don't wake him up. You're so close to the edge, faster than you've ever made it in your life, you pull back just so it can last longer. It's never felt as intense as it does now. You don't know if it's because you know this is what Adam wants to do to you, or if it's because of the voyeur nature of this whole situation. Whatever the case, though rationally you want this to go as quickly as possible, your eager, greedy body makes you edge yourself over and over. Before you know it, you fall asleep from an orgasm so intense, you pass out with Adam's name just barely sneaking off your lips.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning is a pleasant Sunday morning. The whether is at a nice 70 degrees, and perfect weather to go running in. Adam, the fitness buff that he is, decides that this is the best way to avoid you after the fight you had last night. And especially after realizing how much he wanted you, and actually voicing it aloud for the first time. He gets up and immediately doubles over, holding his head in his hands as it hits him just what he imagined doing to your sweet, delicate body. Shame immediately engulfs him as he thinks on how innocent and dumb you are. In his mind, he could probably lead you to his bed and climb on top of you, and you still wouldn't realize what he wanted until his mouth was on top of yours. Who knows, maybe even then, you'd still question it! After all, you were still clueless it seemed over how many times you had fallen asleep with your head on his lap, and a hard on right behind you!

He licks his lips and closes his eyes, but all he can see is you with your head thrown back and mouthing "oh god..."

He shakes his head to clear the image, but to no avail. He rubs his eyes and pulls his hair, then puts his briefs back on and heads to his closet. He rummages around for a bit until he parts the middle and notices movement below him. He hears the sounds of someone just waking up and as he leans backwards to get a better view of the person in question, he is completely shocked to see your confused, sleepy face looking back at him. What's more, the moment recognition hits you, you immediately gasp and throw yourself against the wall. But not before he catches the sight of a pained look cross your features—and your hand looking yanked out of your pants and up to your shoulder.

"What are you doing in my closet?"

"I don't know, sleeping maybe?" You protest clearly frightened.

"But why in my closet?"

"Because it's big, and dark, and you pretty much kicked me out of my room last night so fuck you! Forget this. I'm leaving," you huff angrily as you get up and slide past him. As you pass, Adam catches a whiff of a very bodily smell. He knows this smell, but he can't place it. But then he thinks to your hand...

In a very serious voice, he stops you. "(Y.N.). Why did you have your hands in your shorts?"

"Hands in my pants? The fuck are you talking about, you pervert? I was just scratching my thigh," You rush out rapidly as you stumble towards the door. Adam turns to you, and in a few paces matches your spot and slams his hand over the door you had just started pulling open.

"How long were you in here last night?"

"I don't know. Since after our fight. I was so mad, I fell asleep right away."

He stares you down, horrified that you might've heard, but more angry that you would pretend you didn't. But you don't know how to lie... You've never been able to keep anything from him, and always broke if he stared you down enough when he knew you were hiding something. Still, you shift uncomfortably, and when you look down, he thinks he realizes why: he's still half naked, and almost pressed up against you. With horror at himself, he pulls away and stops pestering you.

You quickly turn to leave the room, but before shutting the door, you stop and say, "don't worry. I'll stop being such a pain soon. I just need to figure some things out."

"Figure what out?" He calls out to you. But it's too late, you've already shut the door and booked it to your room. The moment you get in, you lock the door and crumple into a ball right there. You groan, embarrassment finally engulfing you completely. But more shock than anything else. How did things get so complicated and messy? Adam was just a friend who got annoyed with how often you complained that you needed to find a new place to live that you could actually afford, so he offered to help. You only accepted because he was chill. A little eccentric, a little gross, but chill. You thought it'd be no different than rooming with your roommate at the time, except he wouldn't always be smoking pot and taking your shit without permission. You liked your roommate before. She was cool, but you couldn't handle some of her craziness. And for the price you were paying to be there? Not worth it. Adam was a welcome reprieve.

So why did things have to get more complicated with him?

After you calm down, you grab your cell phone and text Brandon.

"I need your help..."

"Can I please couch surf with you for a few nights? I need to get out of here asap"

You don't even wait for a response. You just grab your duffel bag and start packing all your necessities. You consider leaving the rest untouched, but you think better of it and anything very valuable, you wrap in the clothes you decide to leave and place it at the bottom of your closet. You hide most of your stuff like this actually, and look around.

'Yeah... if he destroys my stuff, at least these things I don't really care about.'

You get a change of clothes and consider showering but decide against it. You don't want to stay longer than you have to so you just clean up as best you can and head out the door, locking your bedroom door behind you before you leave the apartment.

You don't have much cash, and you don't have very good walking shoes, but you can't get a taxi so you decide to walk the distance over to Brandon's.

While you're making the journey away, Adam is busy freaking out in his room. What did you hear. What did you think? Did you really not hear anything? Was it really just him being a pervert thinking you had your hands in your pants?

'I mean, it's not like I accused her of doing something... dirty or anything... I just thought her hand was in there. Why would it be in there? Did she really just get itchy?'

He's overthinking everything—understandably. But after some time, he decides to go apologize. He has to take a cold shower first because he's scared the idea of you touching yourself will make him get a raging boner while he's trying to apologize, so he goes to shrink it as much as he can. When he comes out, he's dressed fully and walks over to your door. He hesitates for some time before knocking, but he finally does.

"(Y.N.), can we talk?"

It remains quiet.

"Seriously, I just need to tell you something."

Still nothing.

"Come on, I'm not going to bite you or anything. Just come outside."

Still, not even a peep. He tries to open the door then, and feels that's it's locked so he gives up for the time being. You're not ready, obviously. You'll go talk to him once you chilled out, he's certain. So he just calls out, "fine! I'm going to head out then. But when I come back, I really want to talk to you."

With that, he goes out for the run he was planning on earlier. You in the meantime get to Brandon's place around then, and start trying to get him to buzz you in. It takes a while for him to answer since he's a bit drunk and very groggy, but when he does, he quickly lets you in. When you get into his apartment, he immediately sits you down and demands to know.

"What did that fucker do that you decided to move out. Like actually move out! Was he rude to you? Did he hurt you? Do I need to buy a shovel so we can bury his stupid hot body?"

You can't help but laugh at his reaction. So much so, tears start streaming from your eyes from laughing too hard. But then... it's just tears coming out before you start to actually realize you're crying... Brandon wraps you up in a tight hug, promising that you don't have to worry. He'll go buy the trash bags and mallets soon to handle it. But then you tell him.

"He didn't hurt me. He didn't do anything except be a prick who doesn't know how to show he likes someone."

"What? ...Are you telling me he likes someone, or that he likes you?"

You pause for a moment, trying to process the events of the night before. Trying to understand. Without meaning to, you say, "he masterbated because of how mad he was I didn't realize..."

Brandon stares at you, dumbfounded. He doesn't even say anything as he walks away from you and over to his kitchen cabinet. He grabs a few drinks, and gets ice from his freezer before mixing together some drinks. He rolls his eyes then and mumbles, "I'm too sober for this bullshit" before downing one of the drinks himself.

He brings one drink over to you, then walks to his room with an another in hand and begins talking to someone in his room.

"Crisis averted. It wasn't an emergency, it's just a damn drama. Give me a few to handle things over here, Kev. Here's a drink if you want it though."

With that, he closes his door, walks over to his couch, and dramatically yet elegantly falls back onto it.

"(Y.N.), do I look like a therapist?" He asks you.

Before you can answer, he continues. "What about a counselor, or hell, a barber? No. I don't. I'm not any of those things. But I'm always here because we're friends. But here's the thing. There comes a point where, though I love you, I get tired of your bullshit too. You can stay here if you want, but I don't get what the problem is if he likes you, and you clearly like him too. Just go fuck him and get it over with! This has been a long time coming. You two just need to catch up."

"But it's too embarrassing!"

"What?" He exclaims in exasperation. "That he likes you, or that you saw him rocking his socks off to you?"

"That I did it too! That he saw me!"

Brandon is clearly taken aback by this as he pulls back in confusion, and looks you over as if suddenly seeing someone completely different in your place. He chortles and immediately goes back to his room. You can hear him apologizing, and saying that he actually needs this drink a little more than the other guy does, and comes back.

He sits alertly in front of you, and with a pointed finger at you says, "this changes nothing. But holy hell, you did what now?"

Your face contorts in embarrassment, and you have to grab a pillow off the couch and scream into it for a minute because it's really hitting you hard. From your position in the pillow, you demand to know.

"How can I live with him if we saw each other do something like that, and still go on as if nothing happened?"

Brandon scoffs and responds, "You don't. You can't pretend nothing happened. You two are both too deep into this to not move on to the next stage, or completely break everything off. I don't think you can even be friends anymore in a situation like this. So figure it out. Are you going to keep living with him as a couple, or are you going to go find someone willing to take you in until you can start over without him?"

"And if he doesn't want to get with me? What if he just wants to fuck, and then act like we're nothing? He does that to every other girl that comes over."

"Every other girl isn't you though. He was probably trying to fill the hole not being able to be with you made."

You look away from him, clearly conflicted, but stop talking. You have a lot to think about, and Brandon knows it. He gives you a hug then, and says you can stay as long as you'd like. But he has his own boo in the other room, so he's going to go cuddle and try to sleep some more. "In the meantime, just think about it. What do you have to lose?"


	3. Chapter 3

_"Where are you?"_ Adam growls angrily through the phone.

Your brow immediately pops up, annoyance building in seconds from hearing the tone he takes with you. You take a calming breath, and decide to ignore the domineering lilt of his. You reach towards the coffee table to drink some water, sitting up from the couch as you do so. It has been a few hours, and it's well into the night at this point since you left your apartment this morning. Brandon and Kevin had already dressed and gone out for the day, but it was clearly a date you weren't planning on ruining any further. Good thing you hadn't gone or else this conversation now would be unbearable.

"Adam, I told you I needed to figure some things out. Can't do that with you always barging into my room, so obviously I wasn't staying."

_"I told you we were going to talk when I came back!"_

"Came back from where?"

_"I went for a run. I told you I was going to..."_

"And you barely got back at," you start, pulling your phone away from your ear momentarily to check the time. To your shock it's already seven o'clock.

"No, idiot! I got back hours ago but since you didn't come out, I thought you were still upset. I didn't expect you to run away!"

"I did**not** run away, asshole. Seriously, do you have to get so fuckin pissed off for no reason?"

You hear him huff and momentarily the start of a guttural scream, but then the line goes dead and you can only stare off in shock that's he's seriously_ this_ mad. You left a long time ago. He should've checked you were there if he thought otherwise. But then, you do also get where he's coming from.

Angrily, you throw your face into the couch cushions and let out a muffled shout of frustration. How can you like him? How can he like you? Questions that have been plaguing you all the time you've been at Brandon's, and you're still no where closer to being able to answer them. A relationship with him would be nothing but fights and anger. But then, in those moments when he's calm and you're just enjoying each others company, he can be so sweet. You know this. You've seen this so many times before. But he's so **frustrating**!

You know Brandon said you're at the point of no return now, but with how Adam is acting now, you think maybe there's a chance of pretending nothing happened if things smooth over. But you have to stop fighting to get that done, which means it's time to head home and talk. You grab a water bottle from Brandon's fridge and chug it to calm yourself but it does nothing for your nerves. On impulse, you fill it up with the open bottle of Absolut further in the back. It's a big bottle, with more than enough still left. If Brandon minds though, you can always buy him a replacement. You drink a small swig to calm your nerves, and the heat floods through your body enough to steel your spine.

With a thank you text sent to Brandon and everything left as you'd found it when you first arrived, you start the long walk home. The closer you get however, the more you stall and take a longer route back. And with every delay you realize you've done, you take another small swig. By the time you arrive to your building, you are very lightheaded and very dizzy. You stumble your way up the stairs and fumble with your keys as you try to make your way in. You simply can't find the right key, though you're almost certain you tried every key already on your key ring. And four keys isn't so many that you could have possibly just kept passing over the key you needed!

You're so thirsty you could drain the rest of your water bottle, but the swig you take only makes the thirst worse. You need some of the fresh cool water in your fridge, and you need it now. Certainty fills you as you look at your keys once more, determined to get in. You're sure you're standing still, yet there seems to be double the amount of keys and finally you pull out the one you think it is. One out of eight should be less embarrassing than one out of four, right? You try once more, but this time your keys slip out of your grasp into the floor as you struggle to put it in. You groan knowing you can't reach that far down. The hallways is spinning too much now, and you can feel yourself having to lean against the door to keep your balance now. And you really want that water!

You slump against the door, trying to reach the keys without falling, but it's no use. However, unexpectedly the door suddenly opens and Adam catches you in surprise against his chest.

"What the hell?! You sounded like a damn burglar fidgeting with the knob like that!"

"M'bad," you slur in response. You hold tightly to his arm as you try to reach down for your keys again, only to stop and stare at his arms in shock.

"Adam!" You exclaim with wide eyed amazement. "Have your arms always been so hard! Oh my god, you feel like a damn wall your muscles are so strong!"

His hold on your shoulders loosens in surprise, but quickly he grabs you tighter as you start to fall backwards into the hall. You start to giggle suddenly as of the nostalgic feeling of on being on a fair ride takes on you.

"Woo, this is fun~. But don't move me so fast, I'm starting to feel nauseous..."

Adam's eyes narrow as he realizes what's wrong with you. You are massively drunk. Ridiculously so. You've never been drunk in front of him! You've gotten close, but never this wasted. It takes all he has in himself to not just throw you over his shoulder and toss you into a cold shower. For one, he doesn't want vomit all over his back. And for another, he suddenly wants to take care of you and make sure you don't do anything else stupid. At least not where your neighbors can see. So with a roll of his eyes, he pulls you in, grumbling for you to come on. Your duffel bag trails behind, almost forgotten so he takes it for you and guides you to the couch.

You sigh deeply when you sit and immediately fall over onto your side. Before Adam closes the door, you suddenly gasp and shout, "Wait! I lost my keys outside! They were so far away I couldn't reach them. But you have really long arms. Can you get them for me? I don't want to get stuck again."

Adam let's out a half chuckle and turns to go back outside. When he looks out though, he can only shake his head as he sees where your keys are: _literally_ in front of the door.

"So far away," he mumbles to himself in amusement.

He locks the door behind him and goes to the kitchen to grab you some water and juice. The water because you clearly need it, and the juice to calm your stomach. He's sure you're going to throw up but better to have something to smooth the acid so it doesn't burn as much on the way up. He takes the drinks to the coffee table and tries to help you sit up, to which you ask, "did you get my keys? I know they were really far away. I'm sorry."

He rubs your head and says they're on the counter. "But don't worry, just drink some water now."

You smile brilliantly at him and snuggle into his shoulder, quietly murmuring, "my hero."

His heart pangs a bit, having forgotten what niceties between the two of you felt like. He breathes in deeply, biting his cheek to ground himself. No need to trick himself into thinking your drunken randomness was any sign of an inkling of affection. Immediately after hardening his heart however, you fall down into his lap and snuggle over his thigh, your legs quickly coming up so you can curl up into a ball on him.

"You're so comfy. I love being on your lap."

His hands stay up in the air in shock as he tries to think of how to appropriately respond. As he lets out a confused "uhh," you suddenly turn to look up at him. Your eyes water a little as a sad shade takes over them and you start to apologize.

"I'm sorry for always just throwing myself on you. I know you don't like it, and I still do it like the selfish moron I am. I didn't realize you didn't like it before but now I do, and here I am still taking over you as if you're mine. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Oh my god, what are you going on about? I don't give a fuck. Just stay on my god damn lap if it makes you feel better!"

Just like that, the tears that were beginning to build in your eyes suddenly disappear as you let out a happy "yay!" and snuggle further over his lap. You still after a moment, your breathe getting deeper and soon, you're asleep. Quiet snores leave your mouth, and Adam simply chuckles as he leans back and rests his head on the pillow behind him. His left hand comes up to rub at his temple and his right hand rests your shoulder in ease. He tenses the moment he realizes he's touching you though and thinks over his dilemma.

For one, you're drunk and asleep. You might roll over and hurt yourself. You might stop breathing, and feeling your shoulder move let's him know your ok. Also, you seem to find comfort in his touch. You didn't shrug him off, and only move to snuggle closer to him. On the other hand, you're drunk and possibly not thinking of how much you can't stand him. Plus, he likes you. He's wanted to touch you, but in a very different way. Touching you should not be ok. You're off limits, at all levels. Even this innocent touch might mean something else if he's not careful and so he struggles. Do you care? Should it matter if you don't? He knows what this does to him, and that is that it makes him wish he could be with you. Be at peace with you, and for you to want him to touch you, and not just in this way. He slowly pulls his hand up and away from you. He awkwardly rests his hand over his left knee but this feels so uncomfortable. Instead he decides to move his hand over the couch rather than risk possibly elbowing you in the face. But now he feels like if you wake up, you might think he's trying to pull moves on you so finally he decides he has to leave.

And oh hard it is for him to leave...

He tries to consider how best to move without jostling you too much but you're so attached to his leg there's no choice but have to move you. But have to touch you more when he wants desperately to avoid that. As he shifts and squirms and tries his best, your sleep starts to leave you. You're moving too much, and your pillow which was so comfortable moments before is now being taken from you.

You stretch your hands up, elongating your back and fingers, then aim to wrap your hands around the cushion which was being so rudely taken from you. You miss however and finally lose your sleep completely. You stare at Adam with sleep addled eyes and feel disappointment when you see how uncomfortable and frightened he looks.

A deep sigh leaves you. You sit up fully and look around for a drink and quickly gulp down the two still resting on the coffee table. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you tell him to sit back down. "It's not like I'm going to bite you. Unless you want me to... But if you're that uncomfortable I'll just leave."

Hearing those words again, remembering the fear he felt earlier when he thought you finally left for good, without hesitation he responds in a muted but clear voice, "Don't go..."

It's a pleading.

It's a desire.

It's a request.

And to you, it's an understanding that suddenly clears your mind.

You grab Adam's hand and pull him towards you. He stops himself before falling on top of you, but you then push him down beside you as you toss a leg over and find yourself straddling him.

Adam mutters a confused, "what the?" but you quiet him with a sudden kiss on the lips.

As he stares on in shock, you cover his lips with two fingers and avoid his eyes.

"Adam. I like you. I _really_ like you. I hate that it felt like we lost our friendship, but I hate even more thinking it's because you can't stand me. If you don't like me touching you, fine. I'll stay away. If you don't like me being near, I'll give you space. What you don't like, I won't. But you have to **tell me** to know what you _do_."

Adam stares blankly at you, completely still, as he takes in everything you say. It feels like forever, and the sudden courage your drunk state provided begins to fade as the other symptoms of drunkness begin to take hold. Your stomach begins to feel weak, and the room is still spinning but it's fine as long as Adam holds you. He keeps you grounded. He keeps you still. The rest of the world can burn to ash, but as long as you can feel him near, it's like nothing can hurt you.

Except his silence.

Except his rejection.

And now the side of drunk you you hate begins to take hold and tears begin welling up. Your chest constricts, and your breathes get shorter. Your nails dig into your palms and your teeth into your tongue.

_'I shouldn't have said anything.'_

You begin to pull away, determined to escape before the depression sets in, but Adam stops you. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and pulls you towards his face, instantly slamming his lush lips to yours. Your mouth parts to gasp, and his lips move to match yours. It's a soft kiss, gentle and tender. So much more tender than you would have expected from him, but in moments you find yourself happily kissing him back. He captures your bottom lip for a second, gently nipping at it before kissing you again. When you finish kissing, you can only rest your forehead against his and smile softly to yourself as you fight to keep the happy tears at bay.

His deep baritone voice rumbles deep in his chest when he speaks.

"I don't like losing you, friendship or otherwise. But I do like kissing you. A lot. And seeing you smile. And seeing you get excited. And damn it, even seeing you get all feisty and mad like when you were sick. I like **you**. Is that clear enough, or should I maybe tattoo it across my face?"

You giggle at the mental image of the words "I like you" across his forehead, and shake your head.

"I like that you like me. And I hope you like that I like you."

You push your lips against his once more, but this time you start to get more handsy and start to run your hand down his chest. Cloth gets in the way. You want to touch him. To really feel him. Stupid clothes just gets in the way, so you reach your hand under his shirt to his side, causing him to jump a little and immediately still your hands.

"What are you doing?" he asks gravely.

"I... I..."

He leans forward, causing you to fully rest on his knees and stares you down.

"You are very drunk, (Y.N.). Kissing is one thing. They say the two people who will never lie to you are children and drunks so you admitting all this makes this confession thing a lot smoother. Way easier than what I was planning on doing before you got home like this. But anything else, as much as I'd like to do it, is not ok. As it is, I'm already having a hard time _only_ kissing you. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be."

A soft whine leaves you. You want him, so very badly. You don't understand why he's refusing you, and so you think back to what you heard yesterday. You can't remember his words, but you once more crash your lips against his. This time though, you start to grind your pelvis into his. A heat radiates between his legs, and when he groans you realize just what the bulge you felt under you was. You continue kissing him and twisting your hips as he struggles to calm himself. A satisfaction deep in your gut along with a pooling heat between your own thighs eggs you on at his reaction, but finally he can't handle it anymore and he pins you down on the couch.

"You. Need. _To stop_," he growls menacingly at you.

Ragged breathes leave your body and you fight the sudden urge to touch yourself at the commandeering tone of his. His vice grip over your wrists stops you though, and so you admit defeat. Well, sort of.

"Adam, I want you. Please, why don't you let me do anything else?"

"I don't want you to regret anything later, ok. If you still want me when you're not drunk, then we'll talk. But until then, even our kissing is done."

You huff angrily, but relent. He feels you go slack under him so he pulls back cautiously. He licks his lips and stares at you, but moves further away to the seat on the right.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

"Peachy. **_Horny_**, but yeah, peachy."

He chuckles at that then gestures to himself and responds that you're not alone.

"But you can sleep it off. I can't. I need to handle this, so how about this. I'll help you to your bed if you promise to not try and jump me again. Deal?"

You laugh at his remark but agree to his terms. You clumsily get on your feet as you try to make your way around the couch, and can't stop giggling as you crash into everything around you. He simply shakes his head in amusement at you, and grabs you by the waist. Almost instantly, he pulls you up bridal style and walks you over to your room.

"Sorry about the mess," he mumbles as he fumbles under your bum for the doorknob.

You nuzzle into his neck, leaving a fiery sensation of need running straight to his loins with your soft lips. Your own need is making your current position difficult to handle as all you want is to make him yours.

"It's going to be a mess anyways after I'm done with you," you promise.

When the door opens quite hazardously however, the slightly still cognizant part of your brain thanks the heavens above for your current drunken state that makes you only find amusement to the chaotic disorder inside your bedroom rather than the anger that would normally take hold. In all honesty, that anger would be quite justified. It was a good thing you had the foresight to hide most of your belongings under a cushion of clothes rather than leave them out in the open. Otherwise, they along with the remains of your room, would have been destroyed too.

Thankfully your bed is intact—more so because there was no bed frame rather than because he decided to _not_ touch your bed, but that's besides the point. The point is, your room is more than a mess. It looks like a hurricane came threw and threw everything angrily against the walls. Which is to say, the angry hurricane known as Adam Sackler busted into your room scared that you might have had a heart attack or something, and was surprised with the shock of a mostly abandoned room. He hadn't checked your closet or else he would have seen that yes, most of your belongings were still there. But in his anger and hurt, he didn't think. He just began angrily smashing and kicking the ghosts of your presence.

He really thought you left him, and it affected him more than he could have ever thought it would. But now you're back, and now you're very needy. And now you're also very drunk so he knows better than to risk ruining this beautiful surprise your confession brought him. So, with great difficulty (because your tight grasp refused to loosen from him), places you on the corner of your bed.

"Sleep, babe. We'll see what the morning brings."

You dramatically throw yourself backwards and exclaim, "you just called me babe! How am I supposed to sleep now?!"

You've never dared dream a pet name for you would ever leave from Adam lips, yet here you were, a melted putty mess. He laughs as he closes the door behind him and rushes to his room to handle his situation. Likewise, you quickly strip down to your panties and handle the burning want he left you with.

For the both of you, knowing the other had the same desire was the best foreplay. Knowing you were handling the same need was the best push. Adam feared what the morning would bring. Would the alcohol make you forget? Would you remember everything from your confession to burning kiss, but regret?

Tomorrow is filled with uncertainty, but in this present moment, it's too pleasant a reality to care.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This final chapter took me forever, but I'm proud if it. It's definitely one of my longest het smuts, though I guess the virgin in me is what makes me unable to ever fully write penetration properly... Anyways, be prepared for lots of teasing and I hope a relatively happy ending. I tried to end on a fluffy note. Hope it panned out!

* * *

Your alarm goes off at its usual 5:15 hour, waking you with its incessant buzzing and loud chirping. Your head pounds, as the gentle light starts to peak into your room. The thin curtain hangs askance on the rod, with the darker shut-out curtains on the floor. You slowly sit up, holding on to your head as you move as you try to remember where you left your phone. You can't open your eyes your head hurts so bad, but after moments of groping around you finally find the infernal racket and tap on the screen. When the quiet finally hits your ears, you sigh out in peace and sink bank into your mattress to try and sleep some more. As you snuggle into your body pillow, you realize how cold you feel and peek an eye open. Your breasts are clear to view so you lift your comforter up to your chin and snuggle again. Right as you're about to nod off again you think, "wait, I'm naked?"

Your hands gingerly grope around over your body and sure enough you feel the pudge of your bare belly, the slopes of your unclothed chest, the patch of thick curls of hair over your groin, and the weight of your underwear hanging just below your knee. As the realization of your nakedness settles over you, memories of the night before start to come to mind. Your fight. The mess as you entered the room. The taste of Adam's lips... Your face burns hot as your fingers play gently over your mouth at the memory. Your core throbs as the memory of his hips beneath yours so clearly, but then you pull your hand away as the throb reminds you of just what else happened in the night. You get up quickly, only to hold on to your nightstand as you stumble. The room spins and your stomach fights to empty itself of its contents. Luckily you didn't have any food so the bile that burns behind your tongue quickly passes before you reach your trash can.

You're too hot. It's too hot, and you need to clean yourself. You head out to the bathroom with your underwear falling behind at the foot of your bed, forgotten. You turn the water on, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste to brush while in the tub, and immediately step in. The cold water pushes away some of your earlier discomfort, only to bring to focus the burning sensation of thirst as a sudden wave of burning hot acid reflux hits. Immediately you start gargling the water coming down from the shower head above you. You face it as the pressure of the cascading water massages your visage, then your head as you lean forward to spit, and stay there. You look up again, gulping down the water without hesitationas it poured into your mouth, and then sit on the floor with your back to the shower head. The heat you felt earlier slowly ebbs away, a chill seeping into your bones.

'Why did I drink so much yesterday?' you agonize as you realize you're in no condition to go to work. But a happy glow burns within because, had it not been for the alcohol, you would have never discovered Adam liked you the way you liked him. For a moment, a hasty fear that he didn't mean it hits you but you think about it as you lean back, careful to keep your nose away from the spray that bounces off your body. Had he been insincere, he wouldn't have kissed you. He wouldn't have said all that he said when he was unaware you could see. You grab some soap and rub your hand over your thighs, wanting to clean yourself of the dried fluids you left yourself covered in. You contemplate how to move forward as you do this, and start to think again of last night. Would he pin you down again? Now that you're not drunk, you think that might scare you more than turn you on. And do you even have the nerve to straddle him again? Your hands lazy lather the soap over your body and you find yourself heating up despite the cold streaming down over you. So you hurry. You don't want to be hot here, but you still want to sleep a little more.

Adam shouldn't mind a snuggle buddy, right?

Shortly after, you step out of the shower and find yourself in a dilemma.

'Just had to forget my towel, didn't I?' you mentally chastise yourself. A hand towel will have to do for now before you sprint to your room and quickly call in sick. Your voice is horse and raspy, perfect to cover your lie though it's not too far off mark as you do still feel aweful from last night. Now that that's done, it's time to prepare.

In your drawers lies your special silky nightgown that you prefer to wear when you just shaved late at night. You forgo underwear and a bra, preferring to slide the gown over you and quickly run a hand over your leg once to check your condition. You could do with a shave if you reallywant to impress him, but the line needs to be drawn somewhere. Eyeliner and mascara just to sneak into bed is already pushing it. And still you brush out your hair and give it a quick blow dry to make it feel soft. That's enough. But might as well add some Moroccan oil for good measure. A glance in the mirror shocks you. You don't look stunning and radiant like the starlets in movies do when they just get out of bed, but you look much prettier than you normally ever do when you head down to sleep.

Nervously, you gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you look down. You feel so odd. And the realization that you're going in nothing but a short dress makes you wonder, 'am I really going to have sex?'The idea seems so foreign, but so welcome. You want this. You really really want this. But maybe you shouldn't push Adam you think to yourself, so you grab your favorite aquamarine, fuzzy robe. That immediately makes you feel more yourself and the nerves of before disappear, leaving only a silly giddiness in its wake.

Brandon glares at his phone after a notification buzzes him awake, but his anger is quickly replaced by a proud knowing when he sees your text. A dolled up image of you winking at him with a peace sign poised over your eye and the words "wish me luck" tell him all he needs to know. He snuggles deeper into Kevin's chest, knowing luck has nothing to do with this now. And you, as giddy and determined as you were moments ago, now pre-jitter nerves eat at you as you gently knock on Adam's door.

Knock, knock

Knock, knock, knock

"Adam?"

From inside the room, a groggy limber Adam slowly reaches round, trying to snooze the annoying buzzing coming from his first alarm. The knocks barely register in his attempt to find the damn thing, but your voice filters through like a wind chime thanks to gentle breeze. He clears his throat, mumbling a gruff "coming" as he nears the door. When he reaches for the handle however, he happens to see his girth flying free and from the other side you can here a distinct, "shit. Shit, shit, shit..."

You giggle softly to yourself but wait patiently. Soon enough, his tall frame becomes visible once he opens the door. You puff up with pride when you hear him sharply inhale and let out an awestruck "wow."

"Adam, I'm sorry to bother so early, but my curtains are messed up and the sun is coming straight in and... I'm just really tired. Do you mind if I crash in your room for a bit?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Come right in!"

You smile right up at him, immediately knocking him senseless with your utter cuteness. He can only watch in rapt attention as you all but happy dance your way in towards his king sized bed. Curse the way you comfortably take off your robe, completely catching Adam off guard at seeing you in such an outfit, and climb right in. He wonders if the past few months were just a nightmare (or a perfect dream considering last night's events), and that the reality was that you have always been comfortable with him and he with you. His steps are slow, careful, and he gingerly grabs the corner of the covers so he won't disturb the cacoon you've made for yourself so quickly. He's on the edge of the bed, unmoving and barely breathing as he considers how he can go back to sleep now.

You have your back to him, waiting for him to scoot closer so you can snuggle but he never does. He remains stiff and much too far for your liking. You half turn over and tell him, "if I'm taking too much space, tell me. I can scoot over more so you can be comfortable too. It is your bed afterall."

"No, you're fine," he answers gruffly.

You turn fully and cross your arms under your bust, using the full weight of your position to your advantage. With raised eyebrows of annoyance, you demand him to get comfortable and to stop acting so weird.

"I'll put my robe between us if it makes you feel better," you add. Disappointment builds like acid at the back of your throat but you push it down. This has to be right if it's going to happen. And you are determined to make it happen. If last night was any indication of a potential something, and mutual attraction, by jolly you were going to make sure he knew you were serious.

Without another word, you grab your robe from the edge and sit up to roll it into a log to keep between the two of you. You see this visibly ease his tension and watch as he finally comes closer. You rest hand over the top of the robe, looking at it to distract youself from the nerves that engulf you as you start to lose your nerve.

Swallowing drily, you look from hooded lids and ask, "better?"

His plush lips demand your attention when he slowly licks them and hesitantly responds, "..yes."

He stares at you earnestly, and you hold his gaze. You will your intentions towards him. You yell about how much you want him with a pointed, slow blink. You beg, letting him now how much you need him with a twist of your hips, your knees gently knocking against his thighs. You show your pure hearted love of him when you break your gaze and snuggle closer. And you smile when you know he receives your message loud and clear when he reaches forward and laces his fingers between yours.

"(Y.N.), have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

You smirk and gently shake your head.

"I think you prefer to call me an idiot," you tease.

His cheeks flush in embarrassment, realizing how childishly he's shown his attraction.

"Well, you're stunning. You take my breathe away all the damn time. And yes, you're an idiot like me. You seriously had to be so drunk to realize how bad I have it for you?"

"I'm not the one who always brought girls home every night," you remind him, eyes glaring possessively as you remember the way all the girls wrapped themselves over him.

His cock twitches awake, seeing that domineering glint in your eye. The time you were sick and told him off, he ended up wacking himself off for a good week to that. It had nothing to do with how you looked and everything to do with the power you held yourself with. He'd gladly do whatever you commanded without thinking if you used that tone of voice that made him weak in the knees again. But only what you want from him since it means you want him.

"Well you were pretty chummy with your own friend... I mean porn recommendation? All I could think is you saw porn together, which means he got hard in front of you, which means..."

You scoff, leaning up on your elbow and ask, "means what? You thought we fucked?"

He hates the mental image of you with anyone else, but there's something to your voice. A shiver runs up his spine. He sits up too and chews his lip thoughtfully.

"I would never assume, but I'll admit, I did have that fear..."

You make eye contact with him and your breath catches in your throat when you see such a soft, tender look radiating from him. Without hesitation, you reach forward and cup his cheek as you close the distance between your lips.

"There's nothing to fear. I only want you," you breathe out.

Adam pulls back to search your eyes, to memorize your face in this moment. So radiant. So vibrant. So earnest. Your heart thrumbs, reaching out to him as you wait for him to show he feels the same. Your eager body however doesn't have patience however as a different thrumb builds at your core.

You're wet and it's all because of him. You remember him that first night, bare to you in a way you never imagined possible. You remember him from last night, pliant beneath you and above you better than you could have thought. And you remember how respectful he was, refusing to touch you without you telling him and aware enough to actually want him.

And you do.

You place a hand on his chest and ghost it down to his belly button. You stop there, and splay your fingers out. Your thumb fiddles with the hem of his boxers as you stare him down.

"Can I touch you?" you ask. You know the answer. You can see the heat in his eyes, the lust glazing them over. He chews on his lip, holding back a moan as you pet him over the cloth. You scoot closer and wrap a leg over his hips, keeping your hand between the both of you as you feel the girth of his building erection. Your movements up and down cause friction between your own thighs as much as pleasure for his cock. You reach your left hand up and pull him closer placing a chaste kiss over his cheek before firmly stating, "I need a verbal answer, love."

He all but moans out a yes when you wrap your lips over his neck and begin to suck the pale skin, enjoying the rate by which his blood pulsates through his veins. His hands grab at your butt with a bruising touch as he squeezes and pulls you to grind against him. You laugh while you lave at his neck, your tongue making him shiver with this unexpected minx side in you. You push him onto his back and climb atop of him, grinding your hips over his hard covered cock, slowly teasing your nightgown up. He throws his head back, growling in frustration. Soon enough his hands are in his hair, pulling in pent up frustration, still too unsure if he can touch you without flipping you over and pounding into you until you cum. Laughing at his response, you lean forward and litter wet kisses all over his torso as you reach into the entrance of his boxers and take a firm grip of his cock. Instantly he bucks into you while you pump up and down slowly. Pre-cum flows steadily, his body wanting you more than he cares to admit. He has no reason to deny it now though as you jerk him off faster, harder, getting him close to the edge until he sees white.

"Not yet!" he demands headily as he finally gives in to instinct and yanks your hand up and over your body. Twitching free and needingly out of your grasp, his cock ghosts at your soaking entrance, just begging to be plunged in. Heat pours out from your core, needing his length to satisfy you in more than one way. But he wants to make this last, for as long as he possibly can. Likewise, you know your weakness. If he were to enter you now, the pleasure from him just entering you now would make you cum automatically and be too sensitive to do all the things you've been secretly fantasizing about. Instead, he breathes slowly, trying to catch his breath and ease of the edge you brought him to so effectively. He ghosts over you, hands still firmly gripping you in place. The heat from his cheeks, his ragged breaths, the way he holds himself still over you while he fights for control over his body again, it all amazes you yet frustrates you at once. The lack of friction and the need for pressure has you arching your hips up for some relief, causing his cock to twitch even more from your teasing heat.

"Adam, please," you beg. "Touch me. Finger me. I don't know, just do something to me if you won't let me touch you."

"You can touch me all you want!" he exclaims loudly with a grin, pulling you to his chest as he turns over on his back. His legs are spread, giving you space to lie comfortably over him. He kisses you deeply then. His large hands grab hold of your ass, squeezing tightly and then slapping it roughly. You gasp at the unexpected sensation, bucking your hips up in escape until you realize you're tightening your cunt. You try to relax it, but instead you find yourself continuing to tighten and release. It may not be the pressure you want, but it's something. Without thinking you ask, "again, please?"

His eyebrow raises in question, a devilish glint in his eyes as his brain processes your words, your breathing, your blush. You're a sub, and you didn't even realize. More than likely a switch since you took control so beautifully. He'd gladly obey any of your orders without a second thought so after a pause only to make sure you don't want to change your mind, he sits up, pulls you tighter against his chest with his left hand, and with his right smacks your ass just a little harder. You gasp, your eyes beginning to glaze over when he locks eyes with you.

"Harder."

A single word. Nothing more, nothing less. It isn't exactly a demand, nor is it a request. Simply adjusting the situation to better suit everyone. You pull away from him then, going to the opposite corner of the bed and lie down in a way so that your ass is in the air and ready for him to do as he pleases. He crawls towards you, mouth watering at finally, finally getting to see you this way not because he imagined it but because you want him to see you this way. He caresses your ass where he had just smacked, wanting to do something much more satisfying to you but he won't disobey you. He does however leave you wanting when he suddenly latches his mouth over your cunt and does a deep swipe up, then pulls away and starts slapping your ass with bruising force.

The juxtaposition of the unexpected pleasure and the expected pain leaves you even hornier than you can bear. Your left hand stays bent over your face, keeping you in place while you fight to stay rigid for him so he can continue slapping like that. Each loud smack stings and brings tears to your eyes, but this is what you want. You want him to mark you. You want to have proof he touched you and made you his so you can't think it was just a dream or a misunderstanding. You want to feel everything and to be able to remember what he did if he changes his mind about you after the fact. You can put your hand over these upcoming bruises and know that's where Adam had his hands. You can squeeze your hand over something firm and know those are the hands you almost made him cum with. You can touch yourself and this time known he saw, and you meant for him to see. That's why, in the midst of biting your lip, trying to hold back the tears of your pain, you find yourself burying your hand in your folds and fiercely, roughly working your clit that's already slick with moisture thanks to your angle.

Adam's hands stop moving, your requested punishment ending with the sound of your fingers pushing in and out of your hole without restraint. His hands continue gripping you while he leans down and breathes over your cunt. He stares at the way your fingers sink into your depths, and fights the urge to plunge his own thick, long digits into your entrance just to feel your heat. He breathes over you, fascinated by the way your body acts in pleasure. He comes closer, so dangerously close, so tantalizing and terribly close... He inhales your scent, deeply appreciating the notes of tanginess the smell alone gifts him. He just tasted you but it wasn't enough. He needs more of you, and he needs you now. He almost cums all over himself then when he realizes you're chanting his name over and over into your fist. It's too much for him and he pulls back, enjoying the show you give him as he begins pumping his cock fiercely. You wiggle your ass then, turning your head towards him as you continue thrusting your fingers in yourself and say, "Adam please. I can't take it anymore. Fuck me. Please."

His heart hammers in his chest, the breath knocked out of him at seeing you so desperate for him. As if he wasn't this desperate for so long too. An almost vindictive shade colors his actions as he smirks and responds, "Not yet, doll. I need to make sure you're actually ready and not just saying it."

You bury your face into the sheets, whining as you beg, a continuous stream of please dripping off your tongue as his tongue suddenly jams into your hole. You moan, your eyes clenching shut as you try desperately not to cum yet. It feels so good the way he works his mouth over your cunt. He's so eager and needy. His jaw works to make you unravel, to take every last drop you have to offer slide down his throat. But you need more. His tongue has replaced your fingers and you need something to touch.

"Adam, Adam wait," you drawl out, trying to find your thoughts, to find the will to stop him so you can do what's necessary. He doesn't relent though, just humming against you in question as he continues ravishing you with his mouth.

Breathless, you say his name again: "Adam..."

He shakes his head, the sound of him slurping bringing you so close.. So close, it's not fair. You can't; not yet.

"Adam!" You demand more forcibly this time. He licks a long stripe slowly from your entrance to your clit, swirling his tongue around the nerve and gently sucking then letting it go. In that moment, it's too late. You've creamed yourself and see white behind your eyes. You slump against the bed, boneless and unable to hold yourself up with any force for a minute. As you catch your breath, he crawls besides you and lays on his side. He blinks at you adoringly, caressing your check with his sticky fingers and pushing your damp hair away from your face.

You turn over, chest heaving as you finally, finally, manage to keep oxygen in your lungs.

"You," you start, staring at him in wonder. You roll your eyes as you look away and stare at the ceiling, unable to maintain eye contact with such a beast of a man. "You need. To let me... Let me fuckin touch you, god damnit."

You huff angrily as he flounders in shock then lets out a deep, boisterous laugh. He throws a leg over you and pushes his lips against yours. Immediately you kiss back, allowing his tongue still slick from your juices to enter your mouth and take ownership of that part of your body as well. You kiss deeply, going back and forth between pecks and needy kisses that would have you think you hadn't seen each other in years. He finally pulls away to look at you, flushed from your exertion, blushing from a shyness that remains just barely under the surface as you refuse to yield, but still ready and needing more. There's a fire in your eyes. The way you keep your sights trained on him so intensely, even a lion would be intimidated by you. But he's your willing prey and he will allow you to devour him all you want.

"Ok, touch me."

You keep eye contact as your hand immediately grips his hot, weeping cock. It throbs in your hold, twitching as you slowly pump. But there's too much friction. It doesn't feel right. You guide him to your entrance and as his eyes glaze over, expecting you to direct him in, instead you lift your hips and slide your cunt over his shaft. You're still slick from his minstrations, still at the ready to be filled by him but it's not time yet. You need to taste him, to feel him in your hands and show him you can make him feel as good as he made you. It takes a lot of self control for him to stop from thrusting, but he's so close already. Your smell alone drives him wild and he's engulfed with it. It's heady and musky and makes him feel high with lust. But he wants you to feel good, and if that means letting you decide how he touches you so be it.

When his cock is coated with enough of your cum, you shift him backwards so that he's leaning against the baseboard and go between his legs. You sit cross legged in front of him, close enough to wrap your legs around him if you wanted, but you need to do this first. With a firm grasp, you tug on his cock, keeping a steady pressure with your thumb as you go up. At the tip, you run your thumb over, toying with his lower head a little then slide back down. You begin to do short strokes then, going up and down in a steady motion enjoying the way this new motion makes him start to pant ever so slightly. You continue pumping with your right hand but use your left to keep yourself steady as you wiggle backwards and lie down on your tummy. Now your head is practically in his lap. When you do your long, slow strokes again, you decide now is time for your mouth. His precum hits your tongue first, but you recognize the taste of your own cunt in the mix. Too often you handled your sexual needs by going to chat rooms and toying with what kinks you would be willing to try out that night. Now, you think those sessions very worth it as Adam begins cursing, his control starting to crumble further.

"Fuck, (Y.N.), I need to cum. Please let me cum."

You hum in thought, your mouth fully taking him. The vibrations in your throat make him groan, desperate for relief. You pull your mouth away, causing him to groan with a different strain now, and ask, "How?"

"What?"

His brain is too fried.. He doesn't understand the question. You barely know where you're going with this, but you want to know.

"How do you want to cum?"

He struggles to keep his composure as he tactfully responds, "the only... fuck. Only way I know. God damn... Out."

You bite your lip, trying and failing to hold back your mischievous grin.

"Out where? Out here?"

You point to your chest then, still pumping but painfully slow now. He needs more. He's so close...

"Or on my face?"

His eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. He suddenly envisions you beautifully adorned with his seed, and loving it. He huffs, a shaky breath his only response.

"Or do you want to cum in my mouth? Do you want me to swallow?"  
You cock your head to the side, so innocent looking with the sudden sweet smile of yours. Your usual smile when you're happy to see him. When something cute happened on tv. When you're watching videos of cute proposals. You shouldn't look this innocent when asking something so dirty.

"I want to cum on your tits."

"Perfect."

You move to continue sucking but he stops you and pulls you up for a kiss. He can't bellieve this is real and needs extra reasurrance he's not imagining it. But he can't let you finish him. He's too close and he wants to paint you himself.

"Lie down on your back. Put a pillow under your hips."

You do as told, then watch as he moves to straddle you then begin to angrily jerk off above you. You're glad you got to taste him and wish he would've just let you finish what you were doing. But you like this. You like him telling you what he wants and making him feel comfortable doing it. You both have been tip toeing around each other for so long. You're glad things are finally like before. Better actually.

It's with great relish that you accept the coating of cum he shoots over you. It gets between your breasts, on your neck, and even a little over your chin. When he bends down over you to smear it in some more, his cock rubs against your belly, cleaning the last remains of his seed further over you.

"So how long do you need to recharge?" You ask when he finishes his masterpiece. He smirks down at you, eyebrow up in mock surprise.

"More already? Didn't we just finish?"

"Yeah but you didn't pound into me. I need you to slap your hips against mine. And I don't have nearly enough hickeys. How am I supposed to be sure you do like me?"

Suddenly your heart wrenches as you realize you voiced a fear you weren't prepared to deal with yet. What if he says he doesn't? What if he says he wasn't going to say no to some free ass when you were so ready to give it up anyway. Shit what if you and Brandon were wrong and now you have to leave immediately and lose the love of your life.

Shit, I'm in love with him...

These thoughts swirl around rapidly. Unbidden, your eyes begin to sting and you know if you cry you'll kill the mood; kill the facade that this was just a friends with benefits hook up for you too. You suddenly want to leave and hide in a hole, but you find yourself rooted in place, needing an answer regardless of the consequences.

"Well hickeys aren't going to prove I like you. I give those to anyone I fuck. But we made love, even if we didn't fuck the way you wanted." His nose scrunches, indicating his sudden self consciousness. "I think that's a little better, don't you?"

You close your eyes, glee taking over and making your heart hammer happily as you throw yourself on his chest and snuggle against him.

"Yes, yes it is. So much better!"

* * *

End Note: So it's 9 pages, so much longer than I usually do, but a much quicker read than it was to write 😅😅

I hope it was ok, and I hope it made sense. I'm probably going to go back through this one day just to make it beefier, but for now I really like how it came out.  
This is also the last chapter to this so if you liked this and have any Adam requests or prompts, feel free to leave a review here or on the actual series (which I have up on AO3). Thank you for reading, and I hope this helps you with your own urges as much as it helped me. 😆  
Have a great one!


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